


I remember Eccles cakes

by Prawnperson



Series: Submarine series [15]
Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Another one of just them talking, Backstory, Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, Webber Wes and Wigfrid are mentioned but just in passing, i guess, sometimes I think about pre constant WX and it makes me real sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: Sometimes, Walani likes to reminisce, mainly about food. On this particular occasion, WX manages to salvage a similar memory.





	I remember Eccles cakes

“What do you miss, Wex?”

The question catches WX-78 off guard. Walani has been telling them about her pitiful fleshling existence before the constant for the past half an hour. Seems being left for even a day while her injuries healed over lead to reminiscing about family barbecues and boat trips to Maui and, most of all, her grandmother’s chocolate cake. WX has barely said anything, and instead been busying themselves for most of the conversation by making a one man band for Wes and Wigfrid’s pig raid, as instructed by the commanding redhead. Menial labour that they resent doing.  
They will have their vengeance soon enough, they assure themselves.

“Well?”

The robot feels something clutch inside of them in a state of panic. They don’t like thinking about this. There’s nothing to dredge up. Nothing to talk about. Nothing to remember except for cold things, fuzzy things...metallic things...

“THERE IS NOTHING.”

They confirm after a brief moment of quiet. Walani tilts her head to the side and scoffs. The smugness in her voice as she does so is as unfamiliar as it is confusing.

“You have to miss something from home, dude. What about your family? Any toasters you’d like to catch up with?”

She laughs at her own bad joke, not noticing the grave expression on WX’s face as they try as hard as they can to remember something, anything from before they came here. Everything is washed out and dull, like a husk of a memory, leaving only muted sensations. There are sounds, little snatches of music, somebody talking. 

One particular memory hits them like lightning in a storm.

“I MISS ECCLES CAKES.”

Walani looks at them confused for a second. WX taps their fingers methodically against the taut skin of the drum on their lap.

“THEY TASTED...NICE. SWEET.”

The first thing they can remember eating. Maybe the first thing they ever did eat. Hard little biscuits from a paper bag that filled their receptors with the sensation of comfort and left both their fingers and the workshop bench covered in flour and sticky currents. Walani giggles next to them.

“I’ve heard Webber talk about those. Weren’t they hard as rocks?”

“THAT DIDN’T BOTHER ME.”

She’s right. They were more like granite than pastry, but WX liked them. They were like a reward. Something they got whenever they sat at peace during a mobility test. A promise given just before waterproofing was attempted for the umpteenth time, most often uncomfortably. A single grounding normality that made the first few months of existence easier to work out. If they’re honest with themselves, they miss that stability. Sure, they don’t miss being ordered around by a fleshling of all things-that, they can never forgive themselves for-but they do miss the assurance that tomorrow would bring something comfortable. Something that may be new but would never be faced without thorough explanation. Now, it’s anyone’s guess. 

“Well, I’m sorry you can’t really get them anymore. I know how bum it is.”

WX hums in solemn agreement. 

“NOT UNLESS YOU CAN FIND TWENTY FIVE GRAMS OF SOFT BROWN CANE SUGAR, NO.”

Walani rolls her eyes and takes the drum from their lap, fixing the braided rope to the side tighter than they did.

“That’s a very odd thing to remember about them.”

WX watches her hands weave diligently in triangular patterns, ensuring the rope stays at the angle it’s supposed to all along the edge of the drum. 

“IT IS MERELY ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF MY SUPERIOR BRAIN POWER.”

She elbows them hard in the chest and they almost tip backwards onto the grass.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short look into some WX backstory. Please don’t be mad at me for this.


End file.
